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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25162603">She Knows Who She Is</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddisonAddek/pseuds/AddisonAddek'>AddisonAddek</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Grey's Anatomy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cheating, Chicago (City), Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Husband’s best friend, Mentioned Infidelity, One Shot, Romance, Romantic Fluff, maddison - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:56:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25162603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddisonAddek/pseuds/AddisonAddek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Addison goes to a medical conference in Chicago, alone with her husband’s best friend, Mark. Her fidelity to her husband is tested.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Addison Montgomery &amp; Mark Sloan, Addison Montgomery/Mark Sloan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>She Knows Who She Is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>According to a research by the University of Kent, men can smell when a woman is sexually aroused. 🤷🏻♀️ That reading became of this little short story.<br/>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>She Knows Who She Is </strong>
  </p>
</div><hr/><p>Addison does the math quickly in her head — there are five tipsy doctors and only four seats in the cab that will take them from this chic bistro in Andersonville back to their lakeside conference hotel. It's a blustery Chicago night and she shivers inside her wool coat; life in New York City had thinned her blood and the artisanal eau de vie in her system is no longer keeping her warm.</p><p>She is jerked out of her reverie as the cab driver barks at them impatiently in his thick Chicagoan accent, "Y'all getting in or what?"</p><p>"We'll have to take two cabs," the haematologist from John Hopkins says like it wasn't the most obvious solution to their conundrum.</p><p>"It's taken us nearly half an hour to get this one," his companion mutters back.</p><p>Addison meets Mark's eyes then, knowing he is finding their dinner companions as tedious as she is. There's the tiniest micro-expression of annoyance that wrinkles across his forehead, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.</p><p>"I'm sure we could manage to squeeze in," Mark says smoothly, "After all, Dr. Shepherd is quite <em>small</em>."</p><p>
  <em>Small.</em>
</p><p>She narrows her eyes at Mark, slowly craning her neck to face him.</p><p>
  <em>Small!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>SMALL!</em>
</p><p>Small has never been the adjective to describe her. Not in middle school when she was already towering all of the boys. And not in high school when the cheerleaders were calling her <em>'jolly green giant' </em>or<em> ‘giraffe’. </em>But today, in the company of the other two women, she is the smallest.</p><p>In size and in stature, so much so that she looks petite.</p><p>
  <em>Whatever do they eat in Minnesota?</em>
</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Addison feels a flush of anger rise to her cheeks, wondering just how deeply laid her husband's best friend's game had been tonight. It had been Mark, after all, who had suggested the five of them go to dinner at this hidden gem of a restaurant deep inside the North Side of Chicago.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She shouldn't have gone to this conference without Derek, she knew nothing good will come of it. She’s afraid of what she would and could do.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She knows herself and Mark knows her so well. Almost too well. And he will kiss her again like he did a week ago in her office and she will foolishly let him do that and more this time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She knows herself. She’s a Montgomery and adultery is in her DNA. She is going to do something so awful, she’s always known that. It’s only a matter of time that she’s going to ruin them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>To make matters worse, Amy had caught them kissing in her office.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But she finds herself scoffing and saying, "Fine," as her stomach pangs at the prospect of having to sit so close to Mark.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Mark whispers something to the driver — no doubt a promise of a generous tip if he agrees to look the other way. The man simply grunts and waves a hand at them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Faced with the Scylla and Charybdis choice of sitting on Mark's lap or that of one of the red-faced Cantabridgians, Addison opts for the devil she knows.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The cab is tight enough and the gentleman beside her large enough that she is forced to wrap her arm around Mark's neck for support. He holds her waist firmly in lieu of a safety belt.</p>
</div><p>She continues to narrow her eyes at him, face blank as he shrugs at her with eyes all innocent like he hadn’t been planning this all along. He mouths, “What’d I do?”</p><p>The cab goes and she is forcibly jostled into Mark’s taut chest with a huff. She gives up trying to distance herself at the third try — <em>what can be worse than sitting on your husband’s best friend’s lap? Right?</em></p><p>The warmth of the cab, the warmth of him, combined with the alcohol begin to make her feel drowsy. Her head, quite naturally, finds a resting place against Mark's shoulder. His chin brushes against the top of her head and a soft, contented sigh escapes her lips.</p><p><em>It's not cuddling</em>, she tells herself. It's just not.</p><p>He doesn't say a word to her as they speed off through the night, city lights streaming overhead. There's a boisterousness in the taxi that is contagious — five middle-aged professionals transformed into raucous twenty-somethings for a night.</p><p>A few blocks from their hotel, Addison becomes aware of something hard and thick pressing up against her backside, teasing her through layers upon layers of silk and cashmere. At first, she is convinced it must be the metal buckle from Mark's seat belt. But then she squirms against it experimentally and Mark lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl.</p><p>He's hard. <em>For her.</em> Some part of Addison, the one who concerns herself with moral and ethics and fidelity, the good place within her, rages to fling herself from the cab this instant. But the part of her blood that is still humming from the alcohol, that is still primal and hungry and young, is getting wetter by the minute.</p><p>Mark sniffs. <em>Damn</em>. She presses her legs together tightly, but it’s too late to even try to cover up.</p><p>Her companions in the cab will not be able to smell her arousal, because they’re too obnoxiously loud to even know what the hell is going on around them <em>(and they say New Yorkers are rude!)</em>, but Mark certainly already has, could probably spend the next fifteen minutes distinguishing the top notes from the bass notes like a master perfumer.</p><p>The idea of that turns her on more than it probably should.</p><p>And then, finally, the cab has swung in front of the brightly lit lobby of their hotel and the night is over. Their companions pile out of the taxi before them — Addison imagines they must look like a very sad circus clown act. She unfolds herself from Mark's embrace and waits for him to pay the driver, waving goodnight to the couple from John Hopkins and the other one from Massachusetts and promising to attend their panel in the morning.</p><p>The driver speeds away in a plume of exhaust and rubber and it's just the two of them. Mark's dark wool coat is open and she can easily spy the thick line of his erection pressing against his finely tailored trousers. There can be no denying their mutual attraction anymore.</p><p>Her eyes flick up to his and she blushes at having been caught staring at her husband's best friend's crotch.</p><p>"You like what you see, Red," is what he says, warm breath catching in the air.</p><p>She makes a sound of disgust and rolls her eyes. “Mark,” she says, closing her eyes as she waves at the general direction of his lower half, “Would you please cover yourself up?”</p><p>“Why? It’s only you and I here.”</p><p>"We can't," she says, the weakest protest. "I'm married."</p><p>He steps closer, never once breaking her gaze. "I never asked you to do anything with me, Red. I’m your friend and colleague. You’re my friend and colleague. Friends and colleagues are entitled to enjoy each other's company." His eyes drift in the direction of the elevators.</p><p>Unspoken promises of a night of forbidden pleasure, his tongue and more between her thighs, dance before Addison's eyes. Her knees begin to buckle in surrender.</p><p>"No, Mark," she says, shaking her head and dispelling the vision. "You’re Derek’s best friend. I’m his wife. We both love him and we can’t do that to him."</p><p>A wounded look flashes deep in his blue eyes, but he accepts her refusal like the gentleman he pretends to be. "As you wish, Red," he says with graceful insouciance before turning his back on her and walking off into the night.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, fuck.</em>
</p><p>The night is still young and their rooms are right next to each other. God is tempting her and she will fail.</p><p>If she falls into bed with Mark tonight, she can’t even be blamed.</p><p>After all, she knows who she is; she is a Montgomery. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204729">Ten Times That Addison and Meredith Got Groceries Together</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbiejelly/pseuds/bobbiejelly">bobbiejelly</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
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